Something
by zippitydoodaa321
Summary: There's something wrong with House. It can't possibly be the flu... Please review! some Huddy and some Wilson/House friendship. My writer's block is relieved!Now Complete! Look for some oneshots from me in the future!
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hey everyone I am back

**AN: Hey everyone I am back! After having my computer taken away forever I am finally back. Now I know I'm not updating any of my other stories and that is because I have decided to discontinue them. I'm branching off from Hannah Montana and Scrubs now and am writing a story for House. I hope you enjoy it! Please review!**

**Chapter 1**

The sun was streaming through his windows is what woke him up that morning. Although his eyes weren't open, they picked up the cheery mood of the sun, although the mood he was in was very different. His eyelids felt as though elephants were resting on top of them and his only coherent thought was to go back to sleep, but it was the light that made it impossible.

And then he opened his eyes.

And then realization stuck him that today he would be his normal miserable, sarcastic self, except more while his head, thigh, arms, abdomen, legs… pretty much his whole body was aching.

Something had to be wrong. It was him.

He thought it couldn't be worse, but his alarm clock went off, sending pangs of pain into his already throbbing head. With moments to spare before he tore out his hair, he slapped the off button on the noise-producing monster Wilson had given him for Christmas to wake him up the next time he needed to go to work.

Damn Wilson.

He decided it would be best to try and make it into work. After all, he was running low on Vicodin. With great hesitation he sat up, immediately regretting it as the room began to spin. He stayed sitting for a couple of moments and finally stood up, putting al of his weight onto his left leg before testing how much his right leg would hold. When he finally estimated the percentage, he limped to the bathroom, the flames on the bottom of his cane not making it look like he was going fast today. When he reached the bathroom, he looked into the mirror noticing his flushed face even though it was a little pale. He lifted a hand to his forehead and felt a fever. Shrugging it off, he turned the water on in the shower and began to undress.

The shower made him feel better, like he was washing away all of his pain which was probably due to a clinic patient with the flu.

And Cuddy said the clinic wouldn't hurt anyone…

When he got out of the shower, he put on a Rolling Stones T-shirt and a pair of jeans along with a black blazer and his leather jacket. He laced up his Nike's and grabbed his wallet, keys, and sunglasses off the counter as well as the helmet by the door and climbed onto his motorcycle.

The ride to the hospital was harder than usual. It took his brain longer to comprehend things which almost made him run two red lights which would've made Tritter dance like a puppet with a drunken puppeteer.

He entered the hospital and was greeted by Wilson.

"You look awful. Is it your leg?"

"You know," House started, "that could be why I'm using a cane and limping. It has only taken you a matter of years, but at least you've figured it out."

"You know," Wilson mimicked, "if you weren't in more pain than you usually are, you wouldn't be _this_ sarcastic," Wilson retorted while walking next to House to his office. "What is it?" He asked. "Are you out of Vicodin?"

"Actually I am, and I'll need a prescription for that."

"Come on House," Wilson said. "It's only been one and a half weeks since I prescribed for you last."

"I can't help it. I keep mistaking them for tic-tacs." House tried to make his way down to his office faster, trying to avoid Wilson. "They are delicious, after all."

Wilson just shrugged. Suddenly House tripped over a backpack which was left on the floor in the hallway by some child visiting his mom, causing him to end up on the floor looking very annoyed.

"Damn kids don't know this is a hos-pit-al?" House asked exaggerating each syllable. He let his head fall back against the wall.

"Are you okay?" Wilson asked with his normal amount of concern.

"Never been better," House mumbled while reaching out for the hand Wilson extended to him.

Once House was up and was handed the cane that flew a great distance, Wilson and House continued to House's office.

"You're late," Chase said as House opened the door although he didn't look up from his crossword puzzle.

"I fell," House said in the same tone of voice as Chase had spoken to him before.

"Are you okay?" Cameron asked with worry.

"I'm here, aren't I?" House responded. "So, symptoms of our lovely patient this week," he said as he limped over to the whiteboard and picked up a black marker.

"There aren't any," Foreman said. "There's no patient."

"Then shouldn't you be out stealing cars?" House asked Foreman.

Foreman gave house a look, not breaking eye contact with him until House did.

House's face went blank as he felt the biggest headache come on. Wilson's face was lined with concern at the disgruntled look on his friend's face. House dropped his head but lifted it back up and said "Okay, I'm going to my office now. If anyone asks for me, especially Cuddy, I moved to Iceland."

House then made his way to his office, took out two Vicodin, and dry swallowed them both, making his throat feel worse than it already did. Then House just put his hands on his desk and laid his head on them once he was sitting at his desk, and fell asleep.

**How was that? I hope it was good! Constructive criticism and compliments only please. Please review! Thank you!**

**Haley**


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Yes I know, two chapters in one day is crazy

**AN: Yes I know, two chapters in one day is crazy. Well, I have a very busy schedule during the week so I feel bad for everyone who is reading my story and has to wait. So I saw I got more than 1 hit on this story, yet as of this moment, I only have 1 review… Weird how it works out like that...**

**Chapter 2**

"What was that about?" Cameron asked Wilson who was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Believe it or not, and I know this sounds crazy, but maybe he's… sick," Wilson replied with only a small hint of sarcasm, for he believed a little bit that House getting sick was pretty crazy.

"Shouldn't he be home then?" Chase wondered.

"Don't worry, I'll get Cuddy to send him home," Wilson said, "House will do anything not to have extra clinic hours added onto his amount already." Wilson made his was out of the conference room to Cuddy's office. He opened the door and…

"If House is giving you a hard time…" Cuddy started without even looking up from her paperwork. It was naturally a habit to ask if House had gotten into any trouble.

"I think House is sick," Wilson started, "maybe you should send him home," Wilson proposed.

"Why me?" Cuddy had to ask.

"You're the only one who can threaten him with clinic hours. Telling him that we'll tell his mommy if he doesn't do something just doesn't cut it anymore."

"What do I get from all of this?" Cuddy asked, not wanting to tear away from her paperwork.

"I'll do twelve extra clinic hours, and another twelve if he needs anything and I'm occupied and you have to get it for him," Wilson suggested.

"Fine," Cuddy agreed with a small scoff. She scooted her chair from underneath the desk and got up. Wilson opened the door for her and walked with her to House's office.

"Let me know how it goes," said Wilson, "I have to go meet with a patient." Wilson started walking toward his own office.

Cuddy took a deep breath, not knowing what to expect from a sick House and opened the door. She noted the drawn shades and the dark room and assumed House had a migraine or a headache. She frowned at the position he was sleeping in at his desk and thought of all of the kinks in his neck that he would have. Cuddy walked over and gently shook him.

"House, you-"

"Shhh," was House's response.

"House go-"

"Shhh!"

"House go home or you're going to the clinic right now and I'm adding five hours to your clinic duty. Don't forget that you are about 180 hours behind."

House dragged his head up and felt soreness in his neck. He looked at Cuddy who saw that his eyes were almost bloodshot, his face was pale, and he had dark bags under his eyes.

"On second thought, I don't think you're in any position to drive, let alone treat patients in the clinic," Cuddy whispered as she put her hand on House's forehead. House flinched at the coolness of her hands, and Cuddy flinched at the warmth of House's forehead. "I'll bring you home myself," Cuddy concluded.

"Noooo," House moaned, "I'm fine."

"House, you're burning up, you obviously have a headache, you look terrible, and-"

"I'm FINE," House whined.

"If you don't let me take you home, you are doing what Wilson has left of clinic duty, plus your clinic duty."

"When can we go," asked House's hoarse voice.

"I have paperwork to finish up. Gather all of your things and try your best to make it to my office," Cuddy demanded.

House nodded as Cuddy left, and rubbed his face before trying to get up and fight all of the pain he was in.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

Cuddy was fervently typing on her pager:

Wilson,

I'm bringing House home. Please try to do my job for me. I also need you to write and pick up a prescription for House and put it on my desk in about an hour. I'll be back to pick it up.

Cuddy

Cuddy sighed and pressed the send button while mentally preparing herself for the rest of the long day ahead of her.

**More coming soon, I promise!**

**Haley**


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I realize last chapter was a tad short, so I promise you that once I get to chapter 4, this whole story will be at least 4

**AN: I realize last chapter was a tad short, so I promise you that once I get to chapter 4, this whole story will be at least 4,000 words.**

**Chapter 3**

"So, Mrs. Sheddy, Samantha's treatment will hopefully only last two years. We want to start…" Wilson was interrupted by his pager. "I'm sorry, do you mind of I check this?" He asked, only being polite.

Sam and her mom gave a look that said "no problem."

Wilson sighed as he read what he was sent, and shook his head. 'If House wasn't being more stubborn than letting Cuddy take him home, then he must really be sick,' Wilson thought to himself.

Sam and her mother looked at each other worriedly as if the page was something that concerned them like a mix up in test results.

Wilson put his pager away and continued, "So we want to start the treatment with a spinal tap sometime in the next week. After that, we will be giving Samantha…" Wilson was cut off by Mrs. Sheddy.

"I'm sorry, but that page wasn't something for us to worry about it, was it?"

"No," Wilson responded. "Just about my friend, Dr. House. He's sick so I have to cover for somebody else who is going to bring him home." Wilson could tell that both Sheddys were relieved and he continued…

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

House limped down the hall, putting more pressure on his cane and trying not to look up and be blinded by the lights. He reached Cuddy's office and saw that she was all ready to go.

"Come on," Cuddy said in a soft voice as she walked toward House. She helped him down the hallway and out the door. When then got to the car, she helped him get into the passenger's side and walked to the driver's side.

They drove to House's home and got out of the car. They went inside and House made his way to the couch where he collapsed in exhaustion.

"You know how I require all staff members to get flu shots?" Cuddy asked.

House grunted and looked up at her.

"You didn't get one, did you?"

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm now suffering a huge consequence of having the flu from not listening to you. Besides, I was planning on getting one during this week," spoke House's hoarse voice.

Cuddy just looked at House and noted that he was lying on an awfully uncomfortable couch. "Don't you want to move to your bed?"

"Are you coming with me?" House asked with a wink and a cough.

Cuddy rolled her eyes and wondered how House could still make his sarcastic remarks when he was sick. 'It must have taken a lot of training,' she thought. "I'm going back to the hospital now," Cuddy said. "You do want Vicodin, don't you?"

"Thanks," House mumbled.

Once Cuddy left, House regretted not asking her to give him the remote and decided it would be better to fall asleep in his bed instead of staring at a black TV screen. He moved painfully to his room, and got under the covers.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

Cuddy returned to her office in the hospital, running into Wilson who was placing the orange bottle of Vicodin on her desk.

"Hello," Cuddy greeted Wilson as she walked into her office and hung up her coat on the coat rack.

Wilson jumped in surprise. He turned around to face Cuddy and asked, "How is he?"

"Being sick barely changes him at all," she answered, "I'm pretty sure it's going to get much worse, especially for the both of _us_.

"Do you want me to go over there? I can reschedule appointments if he's giving you too much trouble," Wilson answered.

"That won't be necessary," Cuddy reassured.

"Whatever you say. Just remember that I've dealt with a sick House before. It's not fun at all."

"I can handle it," Cuddy said with only a little bit of confidence.

Wilson gave Cuddy a look that said, "You don't know what you're getting into," and waved goodbye as he left her office to meet with more patients.

Cuddy sighed before picking up the Vicodin along with a couple of other things she thought she might need, and left the hospital.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

Cuddy returned to House's apartment and was relieved when she saw that he had decided to sleep in his bed instead of the couch.

When she walked into House's room, she was in for a surprise. House was shivering, even though he was slightly sweating. His face was more flushed than before, and it looked as if he didn't know whether to pull his covers up, or leave them so they weren't covering him at all.

Cuddy walked over to him and put her hand on his forehead, feeling a slightly warmer head than before. She shook him gently until she saw he was awake and said, "Do you need anything?"

"Vicodin?" He grumbled as his eyes opened, but quickly shut because of the lights overhead.

"No, but here's some flu meds that will make you be able to sleep," She said and handed him two pills and a glass of water. He took the pills and water greedily and gave the glass back to her.

"Feeling better?" She asked, as she started walking to the other side of the bed.

"No."

"Feeling worse?"

"Yes."

Cuddy sat on the other side of the bed and swung her feet so she was sitting against the headboard and her feet were almost by House's.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Ok so I found some time to post this chapter and let me tell you, it was not easy this weekend

**AN: Ok so I found some time to post this chapter and let me tell you, it was not easy this weekend. I had a dance competition yesterday (we got a gold!) and today is my grandma's 80****th**** birthday and orthodox Easter so… Anyway, your reviews are so great and I'm so glad people are enjoying this story, that I'm just going to forget about how long to make the chapters. I will have a lot of time on my hands this week because teachers are not allowed to give homework because of the NJASK so hopefully I will get a few updates in, but if not, I will definitely try over the weekend if I'm not going to the beach.**

**Also, there's one person who has been making suggestions through reviews, and that is Bloody Koalas, or Hadley. So I was wondering, will you please pm me and help me come up with things that aren't the flu since I'm not a medical person?**

**Chapter 4**

"Tell me a secret."

"Go to sleep!"

"First tell me a secret."

"Fine," Cuddy gave in. "But tell me one first." Cuddy told House that she was going to sit on his bed with him until he fell asleep because he needed his rest.

"Fair enough," House sighed and began one of his darkest confessions. It was something not even Wilson knew. "When I was six, I took ballet lessons."

Cuddy couldn't help but burst into laughter. 'I'll have to find pictures of that while he's sleeping,' she thought. "How long did that last?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, no questions until you tell me your secret," House demanded and looked up to her.

Cuddy scoffed softly. "Fine," she started, "Well, when I was nine, my little brother chopped off all of my hair in my sleep, so when I went to school, everyone thought I was a new student."

House, although his sore throat, burst into laughter and didn't stop until he started coughing. That soon subsided and he looked at Cuddy and just continued to chuckle ever so slightly. "How long did it take people to call you Lisa again?"

"I'm not answering that until you answer my question first. How long did your ballet lessons last?"

"Around four years," House said, in a kind of ashamed manner.

"Well it took a little under a year until I looked like a girl again," Cuddy said. "Now are you going to get some sleep?"

"Nah…"

"Then what do you want me to do first? Feed you cough medicine until you're knocked out or take your temperature and, if it's high enough, admit you into the hospital?" Cuddy asked, quite annoyed with House's stubbornness.

"Wow, I'm in a bit of a dilemma, aren't I? If I fall asleep, you'll probably take my temperature, but if I don't go to sleep, you'll probably give me cough medicine which will make me go to sleep which will result in you taking my temperature," House concluded as he tried to think of another possible solution. "How about I just get up, and move to the couch where I can watch some TV?" House asked, knowing that this was not an acceptable solution.

Cuddy sighed and got up from the bed and made her way to the kitchen where all of her stuff was. She came back with a spoon in her left hand and the bottle of cough/flu medicine in her right hand. "Now, don't make me treat you like a little kid, you know with the "choo choo, here comes the train into your mouth" crap," Cuddy said as she poured the medicine into the spoon and held it our for House to swallow.

House swallowed the medicine and scrunched his face up. "What, no water? I have to hide the taste with something!"

Cuddy trudged back into the kitchen and filled up a glass of water. She then brought it over to House, who drank it greedily.

"Now go to sleep!"

"Fine," House replied and closed his eyes. Cuddy went into the living area and sat on the couch.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

Once Cuddy was sure that House was asleep, she turned off the TV and went into his room. She took an ear thermometer from her bag and covered it. Then she stuck it in his ear and pressed one button. She then took it out, and read in her head '103.4.' Cuddy frowned a little and her doctor instincts clicked in that if his temperature got any higher, he would have to be brought to the hospital. She paged Wilson with her findings and the status of her hospital.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

Wilson's pager went off as he was walking toward the clinic. He took it out of his pocket and read:

House as a fever of 103.4. Should I bring him is? How is the hospital without me? Page me back ASAP.

-Cuddy

Wilson started typing back.

He'd kill you if you brought him in, but if it gets higher, you know you should. Hospital is fine except for a little mishap in the clinic with the wrong meds but it was just between Ibuprofen and aspirin.

-Wilson

Before she got to typing back, Cuddy received another message from Wilson:

Some intern just suggested a patient has SARS. The board wants to approve quarantine for the clinic, but you have to sign for it. The clinic is under temporary quarantine until you get here.

-Wilson

Cuddy rolled her eyes. She was getting sick of idiotic interns. Unfortunately for her, she ran a teaching hospital. Cuddy typed:

I'll be there soon.

Cuddy then walked into House's bedroom and shook him awake. He moaned and she said, "They need me at the hospital for a little. I'll be back soon. Call me if you need anything." She then placed the phone next to his alarm clock where House would be able to reach it. House nodded, his eyes partially closed, and he drifted back into a flu medicine induced sleep.

Cuddy drove once again to the hospital. Once she got there, she sped to the clinic. She saw Wilson standing and staring at the closed doors of the clinic. "So does this guy actually have SARS?" She asked.

"He's never even been to Asia. And, he's four."

"Quarantine over," Cuddy looked at Wilson and took the clipboard he was holding and signed it. "Get the name of that intern so I can beat his ass."

"Somebody is a little moody and I think I know why. How is House?" Wilson asked.

"Bad. It's like he's detoxing but with a major cold and no throwing up."

"I'm sure you've had enough of him," Wilson said. "Let me go over there and take over. Plus, my four 'o clock appointment cancelled.

"Thanks, I need to do some paperwork anyway," Cuddy said graciously.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

Once Wilson got to House's and opened the door, he heard: "Hey Wilson!"

"How did you know it was me?" Wilson asked House as he walked into the bedroom and saw him playing his gameboy.

"I'm used to always hearing your pathetic door opening, especially after all of your divorces. What are you doing here anyway?" House wondered.

"Cuddy has work to get done. How are you feeling?"

"Oh you know, like crap."

"Why aren't you sleeping?" Wilson asked.

"Why are we playing "interrogate me"? I woke up. You're loud when you open doors. I'm so bored. I'm moving to the couch now," House said.

"Fine," Wilson nodded.

House started getting out of his bed. He moved his right leg carefully off of it first, and then moved his left leg. Once he was sitting, he stood and grabbed his cane. He then made his way to the couch with Wilson behind him. Once he arrived, he laid down on the couch. The then looked at Wilson and pointed to a chair and grabbed a remote. He turned on the TV while Wilson sat down, and said, "Let's watch some Monster Trucks."

**I really didn't know how to end it, so I just ended it there.**

**Haley!**


	5. Chapter 5

AN: My last chapter was a train wreck

**AN: My last chapter was a train wreck. Don't even try to argue. I got about 1 or 2 reviews for last chapter and I must say I am very disappointed in you! So did everyone enjoy the new episode of House? I know I did and I can't wait for the next one and the season finale because I hear its going to be fantastic. (I saw some pictures…) I'm very sorry I didn't update this week, but the NJASK took a lot more out of me than I thought it would. (I was so bored all week that I had to do something that didn't involve sitting.) I noticed a couple of days ago that I forgot a disclaimer, but I'm sure you all know I do not own "House," but instead, the lovely people at FOX do. By the way, I saw Craig Ferguson last night doing stand up and it was so funny even though I'm 13 and I shouldn't have been able to get any of it.**

**Also, I found a delightful illness for House to have, so this story should be a little bit better now that I know where I'm taking it.**

**Chapter 5**

"Will you stop snoring?!" Wilson exclaimed in a whisper as he watched a sleeping House on the couch. The sound of the monster trucks was booming out of the speakers on the TV and Wilson wondered how anybody could sleep through that. House's loud snoring made Wilson crazy. It was a pet peeve of his when people slept through (and snored through) a television show. Especially a recorded show that could be fast forwarded but actually couldn't because the sleeping person had the remote and was clutching it incredibly tightly and couldn't be woken up because he was sick…

'A sick House is ten times worse than a regular House,' Wilson concluded silently as he watched the show and glanced at his friend every once in a while to make sure he was okay. Minutes later, he heard House stir a little bit and grumble. Wilson looked over to him and waited for him to open his eyes. House moaned in pain and Wilson sat upright as he anticipated the worst.

"God my neck hurts," House complained as he reached his left hand behind his neck and started rubbing.

"Serves you right for falling asleep on that couch, anyway," Wilson said as he relaxed back into his chair. "By the way, you snore. Loudly."

"Well wouldn't you snore if your nose was stuffed?" House asked in his usual tone, except the stuffy nose made him sound very different.

"True," Wilson said as he watched his friend swing his legs off of the couch and sit upright.

"I hate when this happens," House said as he started trying to roll his neck around and turn it in opposite ways. When it came to turning it left, however, his face tightened up and a look of pain spread across it.

"Are you okay?" Wilson asked quickly and tilted his head to try and see House's face which was now facing his lap because of his hanging head.

"Yea," House said, bringing his head up slowly. The pain was still present, but he was sure it would pass eventually. House snatched a tissue from the tissue box and blew his nose.

"Are you feeling any better after your "nap"?" Wilson used air quotes during nap.

"No, I feel a lot worse, actually," House replied as he blinked his eyes a couple of times because of a headache he could feel coming on.

Wilson walked to the kitchen and started snooping in the cabinets to find any sort of canned soup. He finally found a couple of cans and settled on the chicken noodle soup. He then poured the soup into a sauce pan along with the required amount of water, and put it on top of the burner on the stove. "I'm sorry to hear that," He said, raising his voice since he was farther away. After adjusting the flame on the burner he waked back to House who was now massaging his temples with his finger tips. "Starting to get a headache?" Wilson asked as he looked down at House from his standing position to House's sitting position on the couch.

House nodded before answering with a quick, "yea."

"When did Cuddy take your temperature last?" Wilson asked, looking at the clock and hesitating to grab the thermometer from the island in the kitchen.

"Around noon," House answered and turned his neck as much as he could to see Wilson. "Don't you think about it," the older man said to him. House gave him as much as a "you don't know what you're getting into if you do this" look as he could.

"House, come on, I have to know if your fever went up or down and if I should give you more meds or not," Wilson said as he took the thermometer from the island in the kitchen.

"Fine, but use the under the tongue one, not the ear one Cuddy used."

"She told me you were asleep for that," Wilson said as he went to retrieve the other thermometer and the plastic coverings from the bag on one of the chairs in the living area.

"I'm a great actor," he responded simply. Wilson came over to him and shook the thermometer.

"Now," Wilson began, "I'm going to be watching you the whole entire time you have this thing in your mouth so no sticking it under the light bulb to get it warmer, or sipping on something warm, or moving it from under your tongue. I know about all of the times you play sick, and you can't miss any more school," Wilson said jokingly.

"Aw, mom," House responded to Wilson's sarcasm before he was told to stick the thermometer in his mouth.

A couple of minutes later, House handed Wilson the thermometer, but not before reading it himself and sighing.

"Well, it went down about a degree and a half," Wilson said while looking at red strip that went to 102 on the thermometer. Wilson then looked at House and saw that he had his face buried in his hands. "What's wrong?" he asked as he came around to the other side of the couch and looked down on House.

"It feels like my headache just got ten times worse," House said softly and kept his face in his hands. Although House's voice was quiet and muffled, Wilson still understood what he said. Doctors had to be like dentists, they had to understand their patients even if it was hard to make out what they were saying. "Turn off the goddamn lights," House whispered.

Wilson quickly and swiftly turned off all of the lights in the apartment. He then closed the shades and blinds of each window and stumbled over something as he walked back to House. "Better?" he asked quietly.

"Now I can see without wanting to pull my eyes out," House said.

"I think you should go back into your room," Wilson said. "I'll bring you soup when it's done."

House nodded and slowly got up, grabbed his cane, and made his way to his room, going only a little faster than a turtle. When House made it to his room, he lay down in his bed, and quickly fell asleep.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

When House awoke a couple of hours later, there was a mug of soup on his nightstand, and a note taped to it. House could barely make out the words because of the darkness of the room, the pounding of his head, and the handwriting which was on the piece of paper. It said:

House,

I had to go get something for me to eat since everything in your apartment is not edible at all. Call me first (before Cuddy) if you need anything.

-Wilson

After House put the note down and picked the mug up, he started coughing violently, causing him to drop the mug.

**I ended it there. I think this chapter is a lot better than the other ones because usually I type this from a book where I write the story, but this time I did it without it, and I must say I am so glad I found this disease. If you can guess it, I'll be more than impressed because it fits the criteria of many other diseases.**

**Haley!**


	6. Chapter 6

AN: You're lucky I feel generous

**AN: You're lucky I feel generous. I'm just writing this and listening to dance competition music. I have nothing better to do I guess. **

**I just looked at the stats for this story, and each chapter is getting fewer hits than the one before…?**

**Oh and theatercheese123, I wish I could write House with meningitis, but I am not accomplished enough. Ha ha. Anyway, you're wrong. Sorry! I'm glad at least one of you readers guessed.**

**By the way, I noticed that I didn't follow the symptoms for the disease I am making House have, by accident, because I made his fever too high, but just pretend.**

**Chapter 6**

Wilson got back to House's apartment just in time to hear the shattering of the black mug that contained the soup Wilson had prepared for House. He quickly dropped the groceries on the kitchen counter and ran into House's room only to be presented with the image of House getting over the coughs that shook his body and pieces of the glass mug and the liquid soup on the floor. Wilson walked to House once all of the coughing subsided. "Are you okay?"

House nodded and rubbed his face with his hands.

"I'll get you some water," Wilson said. He came back from the kitchen with a glass of water and handed it to House who, with shaky hands because of the coughing, drank it with no hesitation.

House cleared his throat when he was done, and in order to break the silence, he said, "I guess we should clean this up." He gestured to the floor where the broken glass and soup were. He got out of his bed and started making his way over to the closet just outside of his room. When he arrived, he pulled out a broom and a dustpan and handed it to Wilson, who was standing behind him. Then he limped into the kitchen while Wilson went back to House's room, and got paper towels. He held the paper towels in one hand, and his cane in the other, and slowly made his way back into his room, where Wilson was brushing the glass into the dustpan.

Wilson looked at House and said, "You're sick, you don't really have to help me. You wouldn't help me if you weren't sick."

"It's my fault," House said. "You shouldn't have to clean actual messes up for me, only messes that are made because of my personality or something."

Wilson shrugged but continued what he was doing. "Get in bed; I don't want you getting sicker than you are, considering you hate hospitals."

"I'm so bored though," House said. "If I sleep any more, my breath will multiply in grossness by 200 percent. I can't believe I'm actually going to say this, but, I'd rather be doing clinic duty." House cringed, but quickly got over it. "I at least would like to be solving a case right now instead of sitting here and counting the number of letters in the book titles on the spines of the books over there."

As if on cue, the phone rang just then. House reached over, took the phone, and pressed the button to receive the call. Then he answered with a hoarse, "Hello?"

"House," spoke the caller's voice, "Are you well enough to help diagnose a patient?" House knew it was Chase by the Australian accent he had criticized so many times for sounding British.

"Symptoms?"

"Well she's twenty-eight years old, female, obviously, and her symptoms are a patch of skin that is warm to the touch, pain and discomfort, chills, and a fever."

"Is the middle of the patch of skin full of pus and does it happen to be surrounded by reddish pink skin?" House asked, not interested in the case at all. It was too obvious for him.

"Yes, it seems so," Chase responded, noting House's tone.

"Did you actually go to med school? It's an Abscess you moron! Drain it and send her home." House then hung up the phone. "Why did Chase call me from the clinic and have me diagnose a patient that should be easy to diagnose? Did you call them and ask them to do this?"

"Okay fine," Wilson said as he started with the paper towels. "I did, but it's only because I knew how bored you were. You can at least show some gratitude."

"Oh gee, sorry. I usually get fed up with morons, though," House said in a sarcastic tone as he went over to sit on his bed.

"You know House, even though I did kind of set you up with that diagnosis, sometimes an illness can be something completely different than what it seems," Wilson said as he finished cleaning the mess.

"Yea, well, I'll think about that when my team presents me with a more challenging case."

"Whatever," Wilson sighed and stood up, brushing whatever mess he had on his shirt, off of it.

During an awkward pause, House blinked a couple of times and suddenly had a strange feeling. "I don't think this is the flu," He said bringing a hand up to his face and gently massaging it.

"What do you mean?" Wilson asked with a hint of concern as he stared at his friend.

"Considering I'm a doctor, I'm pretty sure I'm right that you're not supposed to have facial pressure when you have the flu," House said looking kind of confused.

"So what do you want to do about this?" Wilson asked. He was thinking that House would want to run tests on himself, but he was debating whether or not House actually had facial pressure, or just wanted a puzzle and his only hope was to make his flu more complicated than it really was.

"Well I think I know what it is, but I'm not completely sure. My medical dictionaries are all at the hospital in my office, though, so how will I know if I'm right?" House looked at Wilson with pleading eyes as if to say, "Will you go get them? Will you take me to the hospital to solve my own case?"

"No way, don't look at me like that," Wilson said. "The only way I'm taking you to the hospital is if you're planning on being a patient there."

House sighed in defeat. He was almost sure of what he had and he knew he needed his team to help him get the final conclusion, he knew he needed only one simple test to find out if he had this illness. His curiosity got the best of him like it did when he was reading a suspenseful novel and would just flip the pages to see how it ended and he said, "I'll get my coat."

"You know," Wilson said, "Curiosity killed the cat…" House responded quickly after.

"Cats have nine lives."


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Sorry I haven't updated, I have terrible writer's block

**AN: Sorry I haven't updated, I have terrible writer's block. Please PM to help meeeee!**


	8. Chapter 8

AN: I want to thank everyone who PMed me

**AN: I want to thank everyone who PMed me. I love encouraging comments and help. Thank you so much to chickloveslotr for giving me an idea which I am stealing, mostly because I love the disease name! I am now going to take some of your time and talk about myself, so feel free to skip right to the chapter…**

**So Friday I went to RVCC (Don't worry, I am not giving any more information about myself then my first name, age, and state. I think that's kind of okay right? It's not like I'm giving you my phone number, school, town, city, beach house address, etc.) for the Teen Arts Festival. One of my dance teachers was there because he choreographed a dance for a couple of people from my school. And in the program they listed him as a teacher which I thought was hilarious since I don't know if he knows where my school is. I went for (shocker) a speculate I had written that my teacher thought was good. (She never gives good grades!) So I got a critique on it which was pretty good and I hung out all day with my friend Meghan and we only had to go to two workshops which were an hour each so we had the rest of the day to do absolutely nothing but walk around in the pouring rain and get lost on the way to workshop#2. We got Starbucks and didn't eat lunch because of the crowded cafeteria, but whatever! (Thank God for vending machines!)**

**Chapter 7**

The drive to the hospital was silent except for the repeating words of "My Humps." House did not even comment about how he would like to "meet Fergie and her humps." He had a puzzle that he needed to solve, and he felt that it was more important than any other puzzle he had solved before because it was his own. As he listed possibilities in his head, Wilson broke the silence.

"I know why you're doing this. It's because you are bored! You have to take the flu and blow it up into something so serious and mind-boggling. Just admit that because you haven't had a case in a week and a half, you have to make one up," Wilson said as if he thought he was a genius.

House looked up at Wilson who had his eyes on the road, and then at the windshield which was being dotted with drops of light rain and pushed away every couple of seconds by the windshield wipers. House knew Wilson was right in a sense, yet he couldn't help feeling that this "flu" was something more. House continued studying the rain, feeling like the answer was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't figure it out.

As they pulled into the hospital parking lot, House snapped out of his daze. Wilson was pulling into his own parking spot and House immediately said, "Um… Hello," House waved a hand in front of his friend's face, "Cripple here!"

"Hello," Wilson mocked, "Someone left their handicap parking pass at home. Plus your motorcycle is still in your spot."

House just sighed, not even thinking about the damage to his motorcycle that the rain would cause. Once Wilson parked, he got out of the car and limped to the main entrance of the hospital.

Both House and Wilson walked to House's office. "Hey," Wilson started, "We had a deal here. You have to check into the hospital as a patient."

"You never said I had to do that _immediately_!" House said as he opened the doors to his office and saw Cameron, Chase, and Foreman doing various activities. Chase was working on a crossword puzzle, Foreman was reading the paper, and Cameron was reading medical journals. It all seemed like déjà vu to House as he had seen this sight a number of times."Differential diagnosis for flu-like symptoms!" House exclaimed as he watched each one of his fellows look at him like he was crazy.

"Here's a thought, maybe it's the flu!" Foreman said sarcastically. "What do you think the best treatment for that is, Chase?"

"I am going to go with fluids, rest, and not infecting everyone in the hospital who hasn't had their flu shot."

"Ding ding ding," Cameron said plainly not making any effort to enforce the sound effect.

"Okay, if you are so set on it being the flu, what _could_ it be?" House asked as he pulled out a chair and sat down in it.

Cameron started listing out loud, "Anthrax, Bronchitis, Sinusitis…"

"That's it!" House interrupted. "It's Sinusitis. Explains everything, the flu-like symptoms, the facial pressure…"

"It doesn't explain the _high_ fever you had," Wilson said as he looked at House.

"So, a fever still is a symptom. Let's get a CT scan of my sinuses."

Cameron, Foreman, and Chase each looked at each other and nodded their heads in agreement. Then they looked at Wilson for confirmation.

"Okay, fine," Wilson said, dropping his hands from his chest.

"I'll go see when the next time is available for the CT," Foreman said as he walked out of the room.

"I'll go sign House in as a patient," Wilson said and motioned House to follow him. House did so and they both left.

Cameron and Chase looked at each other and continued what they were doing before.

"Hmm eighteen letters, a disease caused by a fungus…" Chase read aloud. "I'll skip that one…"

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

Fifteen minutes later, House was sitting in a hospital bed with the covers under him and his game boy in his hands. As if on cue, Foreman walked into the room and House asked, "So how long is the wait?"

"About two hours. You should've been expecting this since, if I remember clearly, you broke one of the CT machines last week," Foreman answered and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Oh yea," House snickered, "Good times." Him and a few other doctors were playing poker, and when Cuddy came and found them, they quickly his the beer, chips, poker chips, and cards in the CT machine. Many of the beers spilled and most of the cards, chips, and poker chips, got stuck inside cracks and crevices of the CT machine.

"Where did Wilson go?" Foreman asked.

"To go get something to eat," House replied, focused on the game.

"Did a nurse come and give you an examination yet?"

House was getting annoyed with Foreman talking because he wanted to play his game. "No because the ER is short-staffed. I think they need some help. Maybe you should go down there." House didn't even look up but he got the message across because after Foreman rolled his eyes, he left.

Shortly after, a nurse walked into the room. "Alright Dr. House, can you please change into this?" She held up a robe.

House put down his game boy and carefully got off of the bed. Then he took the robe and went into the bathroom in the room. He quickly changed and when he got out of the bathroom, he held his robe closed right near his butt.

"You are wearing underwear, right?" The nurse asked him.

"Yeah, boxers, why?"

"You don't need to hold your robe closed, I am a nurse you know," The nurse said in a state-the-obvious kind of tone.

"Someone is getting something mean written on their comment card," House said as he made his way back to the bed and sat on it. "Now, where should we start?"

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

About twenty minutes later, House was hooked up to a heart monitor, and other machines. He was back to playing his game boy because he was trying to beat level ten of Zelda. He jumped when he heard a light knock at the door before Cuddy walked in.

"It's the flu."

"No it isn't," House said as he paused his game and looked up.

"You just can't stand not having a puzzle."

"That's not true."

"Oh, come on, House. You love the puzzles. You're bored."

"Don't be a Wilson."

"What do you want to do, bet on this?" Cuddy asked.

"Sure. Let's make it official. Regular rules apply."

"Fine. If I win, you owe me ten more hours of clinic duty, and you have to write your performance reviews by yourself and on time."

"If I win you have to go on a date with me," House said looking at her.

Cuddy blinked and looked very shocked. "Okay, fine." She plainly stated.

House held out her hand and Cuddy came over to him and shook it. "It's a deal then," House said.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

While they were waiting for the CT machine, Cameron, Foreman, and Chase heard about Cuddy and House's bet. Chase had a wonderful idea.

"Alright, if you are betting on Cuddy to win, go over there, and if you are betting in House to win, come over here." Chase was collecting money from people and quickly scribbling names and amounts on a piece of paper. It wasn't the first time he had done this. He let the staff members bet on anything. It was something to lighten people up because of the somewhat grim environment of the hospital.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

Finally, it was time for House's CT. Wilson, Foreman, Cameron, and Chase all came to get him. One of the nurses took his cane from him because he kept trying to throw it in the air and catch it and was making too much noise, so Wilson was wheeling a wheel chair. Once they all got to his room, he couldn't help but wonder why all four of them needed to go.

"Are we having a party?" He asked.

None of them responded to the comment, but Wilson said, "Just get into the chair." House obeyed and they al started down the hallway.

Midway, House had a pained expression on his face. He folded his arms and leaned forward. "Tell Cuddy she was wrong," He said before scrunching his face in hopes of relieving pain. "Chest pain isn't a symptom of the flu."


	9. Chapter 9

AN: I love that I'm getting reviews for this story

**AN: I love that I'm getting reviews for this story. I really do. I couldn't be happier about this story!**

**Sorry about the not updating in a long time thing. I've been pretty busy…**

**Chapter 8**

"So, what's your favorite restaurant?" House asked Cuddy who was standing at the foot of his bed. The setting of the room was like every other hospital room with the heart monitor beeping steadily and the white walls seeming frightening rather then creating a friendly and comforting environment. In every hospital room was a patient, usually in their bed, with their hair tousled and the look on their face miserable, yet House only possessed one of the two characteristics. House was not one to smile often, but he had just won a bet to Lisa Cuddy, and she was his prize.

"This is not an appropriate time for this, House," She said, as she looked down at him. He had a grin on his face and she could tell by his eyes that he was deep in thought. Knowing him, it was probably about the restaurant.

"There's a strip club only a couple of blocks from here. I'm sure you would fit in nicely." House smirked at the thought.

Cuddy rolled her eyes and looked at him like he was crazy. "I'm not going to a strip club, House," Cuddy paused for a moment and looked at the grin on House's face from suggesting it. "Just focus on diagnosing whatever disease you have."

"Cuddy, I am the patient, you are the doctor. So don't you think _you_ need to be focusing on this more than I do?"

"No," Cuddy said. "You're a diagnostician, a man who loves puzzles. I think you would be better off trying to figure this one out."

"Well then," House started, "every great diagnostician needs their whiteboard."

"You're not serious, are you?"

House just stared at her with a "do you think I'm kidding?" face.

"Oh fine!" Cuddy exclaimed and crossed her arms across her chest. Then she walked out of the room quickly, and started down the hallway to House's office.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

Cuddy opened the door swiftly and only said, "Foreman, Chase, whiteboard, House's room."

They looked at her questioningly.

"You do know how much of a pain that whiteboard will be to wheel down to House's room, right?" Chase asked with seriousness on his face.

"Why do you think I asked you two to do this?"

Foreman turned away from Cuddy and rolled his eyes before walking toward the whiteboard. Chase, however, scoffed and threw his crossword puzzle down on the table.

"It's not like you have any cases anyway, so you might as well try and help to solve House's."

During all of this, Cameron looked up every so often from her book to see the two men acting like children who had to do chores and chuckled to herself.

After holding the door open for Chase and Foreman as they wheeled the white board out of the room, Cuddy walked out, letting the glass door shut behind her.

Her heels clicked against the tile as she quickly made her way to Wilson's office. People stayed out of her way as she walked, knowing what kind of trouble House was giving her.

Once she arrived at Wilson's office door, she opened it and saw him doing paperwork at his desk.

"Is House being a pain in the ass again?" Wilson asked, not even looking up to see Cuddy standing in his doorway until after he said that.

"How did you know?"

"Who doesn't ever come to see one of us to complain to House? Plus, I know the sound of those shoes."

Cuddy smiled a little bit.

"So how is he?" Wilson asked, putting down his pen and leaning back in his chair.

"Great, horrible, I don't know. When the nurses go in his room to check his vitals, they always come back out looking petrified. If he's experiencing a new symptom, he is hiding it well," Cuddy paused before saying. "You know, it's like he's not even sick."

Wilson smiled slightly at Cuddy who returned the smile back. "Well," he started, "House is a very complex person. He was sarcastic and narcissistic before the infarction from what I hear, and even now, we're his only friends, he uses his cane on his right side instead of his left, and he has admitted he is a drug addict, but doesn't think that it's a problem."

"True," Cuddy said. "How do we even stand him?

"Face it Cuddy, doctors are like-"

"Oh god," Cuddy interrupted, "Don't be House with the whole metaphor thing,"

"It's a simile," Wilson said before getting back to his point. "So anyway, doctors are like repairmen. We like to try and fix things no matter how they are broken. House is emotionally broken and physically broken, and all we want to do is mend him. It's like Cameron and her choice of men."

Cuddy laughed, and Wilson chuckled in unison.

Cuddy stood up to leave before saying, "I should probably go check up on him and his differential for himself."

"I'll stop by later," Wilson said as he watched her walk out of the office.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

When Cuddy arrived at House's room, she instantly knew that something was not right. It was just a gut feeling. She walked into House's room to see him slightly conscious and dazed. She quickly ran over to him and saw the sweat on his forehead. From putting her hand on his forehead, she could tell how severe this fever could be. Especially since whatever House was mumbling was incoherent.

"Nurse!" She called quickly, "I need a thermometer and ice packs NOW!" She knew she had to cool him down, yet she couldn't help but wonder what he was saying. She could make out a few words as she waited for a nurse, but all they were only, "Stacy", "sorry", "I didn't mean to", and "not again."

She pondered what they might mean, and in the split-second it took the nurse to get to the room, memories flooded back to her like a town floods after a dam is broken.

**Ok, so I know I haven't updated in a while ad leaving it there is just cruel, but I have been working on this chapter forever and I couldn't figure out what to write. I gave this a lot of thought though, and next chapter WILL be longer.**

**Love,**

**Haley!**


	10. Chapter 10

AN: To I luv ewansmile, sorry if I confused you, but because he had chest pains he didn't have the CT cause from the chest pai

**AN: To I luv ewansmile, sorry if I confused you, but because he had chest pains he didn't have the CT cause from the chest pains they ruled out Sinusitis.**

**Oh em gee. How lame am I? I spelled AND wrong in my last bottom author's note!**

**Hey guess what? After this fic is over, stay tuned to see many oneshots from me.**

**I AM SO ANGRY! I got an 88 on my minor write essay. We had to compare and contrast two superheroes. But seriously, an 88! I should have done so much better. I worked SO hard perfecting my paper!**

**I got a 90 on my major write which was comparing and contrasting 2 movies, and I barely spent ANY time perfecting it.**

**Wow.**

**Guess what? School ended June 19****th****, and I am now officially an 8****th**** grader!**

Chapter 9

_Recap:_

_When Cuddy arrived at House's room, she instantly knew that something was not right. It was just a gut feeling. She walked into House's room to see him slightly conscious and dazed. She quickly ran over to him and saw the sweat on his forehead. From putting her hand on his forehead, she could tell how severe this fever could be. Especially since whatever House was mumbling was incoherent._

"_Nurse!" She called quickly, "I need a thermometer and ice packs NOW!" She knew she had to cool him down, yet she couldn't help but wonder what he was saying. She could make out a few words as she waited for a nurse, but all they were only, "Stacy", "sorry", "I didn't mean to", and "not again."_

_She pondered what they might mean, and in the split-second it took the nurse to get to the room, memories flooded back to her like a town floods after a dam is broken._

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

Moments later, nurses crowded House's room, trying to cool his temperature down from 106 degrees. The only thing Cuddy did to help was pass icepacks to the nurses. She was still stuck in her head.

Every time House repeated the words, they would crescendo louder and louder.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

Wilson practically ran to his friend's room once he received a page from one of the nurses saying:

House's temp. spiked.

He was worried, but he knew House would be okay. He always was.

When Wilson arrived at House's room, he was surprised to see Cuddy barely taking control of the situation. She just stood there, deep in thought. He didn't realize a possibility why until he heard the words being exclaimed from his friend's mouth. He had no idea what they might have meant, and he figured he should ask later, when all the drama had concluded.

He looked over at his friend being cooled by all of the ice packs, half conscious, and miserable. He shook his head and just watched, not noticing House's fellows rush into the room, and Cameron putting her hand on his shoulder.

As for Chase and Foreman, they moved Cuddy aside, and took over for her.

"Why don't you go, we have this under control and his temperature is already decreasing." Spoke Chase from House's bedside. He could tell something was up, but didn't want to let her know. She was his boss' boss after all, and he didn't want to sound rude.

Cuddy just nodded and figured she should get herself together and try to wash out the memories flooding her mind. She started walking out of the room, and once she reached the doorway, she turned around getting one last look at House before continuing out of the door.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

Once House's temperature was back to normal, his team sat in the conference room with Wilson. They were discussing the events that had occurred and trying to come closer to a diagnosis.

"Did you see Cuddy? She looked freaked when she heard House saying those things. What do you think it meant?" Chase asked, looking around at Cameron and Foreman first, but eyeing Wilson last thinking that he knew something they didn't.

"What are you looking at me for? Stacy, House, and Cuddy knew each other way before I came along."

"Oh come on," Cameron started, "House tells you almost everything. You have to know something about this."

"Well, I don't. I was planning on asking Cuddy about it though, so if she doesn't make me promise to keep it secret, I might tell you."

"As much as House and Cuddy's past secret life interests me, can we please get back to the diagnosis?" Foreman tried to ask politely.

The other three doctors sighed and directed their attention to Foreman.

"Okay, so the symptoms are-"

"I think we should spend less time focusing on the symptoms, and more time focusing on things he has done recently that might be causing this illness," Cameron said, interrupting Foreman. "Isn't that how he solves cases? He finds out what his patients have been doing recently, and has us search their houses. Let's try and think of patients we have recently treated, and Wilson, you have keys to his apartment."

"I agree," Chase said, looking around for more conformation.

"It's human nature to agree with the people your sleeping with," Foreman mumbled a little too loudly.

"We are not sleeping together!" Both Cameron and Chase exclaimed at the same time while Wilson just gave a puzzled look.

"I think they're right," Wilson said. "I'll head over to House's while you guys go through your patients from the last month or so." Wilson stood up, and picked up his coffee from the glass table. "I'll be back in a couple of hours." Wilson left the room, letting the glass door close quickly behind him.

Meanwhile, House's team remained in the conference room, discussing past patients they had treated.

It was Cameron's job to go through the patients illnesses to see if they matched up.

It was Chase's job to go through the treatments.

It was Foreman's job to go through how they finally got the diagnosis.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

Wilson jammed the keys into the lock of House's apartment, and turned them for the third time, finally unlocking the door. He never realized how annoying opening a door could be.

Once Wilson stepped inside, he noticed the empty glass sitting on the side of the piano, and the mess of magazines of the coffee table. His apartment looked like it always had, and so far did not display any signs that could lead to symptoms of his illness.

He traveled farther, into the bedroom, the bathroom, and the kitchen, taking samples from every crammed corner he could think of.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

When Wilson returned to the hospital, his next mission on his imaginary to-do list was to get the samples down to the lab. He would then talk to Cuddy about the scene in the hospital room before.

There was a problem with that though. The lab was backed up. There was an E Coli breakout according to the media, which caused a sea of hypochondriacs to show up in the clinic, and even the ER.

"I'm sure House would love that he is sick on this day, out of all days," Wilson thought to himself as he held the samples and tapped his foot impatiently as the line slowly crept forward.

After a while, Wilson got tired of waiting, and just dropped his samples off at the lab with a note. They had to get them and test them, it was hospital policy.

He decided that it was time to ask Cuddy about the events that occurred before. He was very curious as to what the words House mumbled could mean.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

Foreman, Chase, and Cameron could not find anything no matter how elaborate their note-taking of every case was.

"There has to be something we are missing," Chase said, putting down a file on the glass table already littered with files and twirling a pen in his hand.

"Maybe we should take a break. We should probably check on House," Cameron suggested.

They both looked at Foreman for conformation, and after rolling his eyes and giving a slight nod toward his colleagues, they left the conference room for House's room.

HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD

"Can I come in?" A slight knock at the door made Cuddy look up. She saw Wilson standing there, the door open already, but he just stood in the doorway.

"Sure," She said, half expecting what was about to come.

"Cuddy, if you don't mind me asking-"

"Why I looked the way I did when I heard House mumbling? Well sit down Wilson, because this will take a long time."

Wilson shifted in his chair across from Cuddy's desk. She leaned back in her chair and began her story.

"It was right after I had hired House. We were pretty good acquaintances since we both went to medical school together, so we talked a lot. One day, House killed his first patient. No matter how much everyone said that it wasn't his fault, he still believed it was. And truth be told, it was his fault. He didn't watch his patient take her antibiotics, and because of that, her immune system shut down. She accidentally knocked them off the table in her sleep, and because she was asleep when they were given to her, she didn't know if she took them or not. Once House figured out it was his fault, he drowned himself in alcohol for days. I came over once a day, and one of the last days, House persuaded me into getting drunk with him."

Cuddy shifted in her seat and continued.

"We were both drunk, and Stacy was out of town, so we thought, 'one time won't hurt. It will all blow over in the morning.' The trouble with that was that Stacy had decided to come home early from her trip and cheer Greg up. Instead of that, she ended up getting to see her boyfriend and me in bed together. She was so furious that she packed up and went to her mother's house for a couple of days. It wasn't the first time that House had done something to drive her to that level."

"Oh," Wilson said, feeling the awkward tension in the air. He felt bad for Greg, for Lisa, and for Stacy.

"It took a while, but Stacy finally understood why we had done that."

More awkward silence occurred, but was broken when both Cuddy and Wilson's pagers went off. They looked at them at the same time, both saying:

House has developed a rash.

**Yes! I did get the whole House's first kill from that season 4 episode when Thirteen did it.**

**This chapter felt longer…**

**Thanks for reading this chapter! The mystery is almost solved, I swear. Probably in the next chapter or two.**

**Haley!**


	11. Chapter 11

AN: So here we go, Chapter 10…

**AN: So here we go, Chapter 10…**

**Last chapter!**

Chapter 10

Cuddy and Wilson rushed to House's room, where they were greeted by his team.

House was sound asleep, probably from some sedative given to him so Cameron, Chase, and Foreman could check him out.

"This rash completely changes everything," Foreman said, looking at the symptoms written on the white board and mentally adding "rash" to it. He knew how angry House could get when someone touched his markers…

"I know what it is," came a groggy voice from behind, causing all of the doctors in the room to look at the one in bed.

"Really?" Wilson asked as he folded his arms and looked down at him.

"Yes," House said in the same tone as Wilson, mocking him. "Its Acute Symptomatic Coccidioidomycosis. Try saying that ten times fast."

Cuddy looked at him in disbelief. "But how would this happen?"

"Remember that conference you sent me on? Where was it?"

"Phoenix, Arizona but I can't see why that matters." Cuddy paused after saying this. "Oh."

"There was an earthquake, if you saw on the news. Not too big of a deal cause I turned out okay. Well, I guess not. Anyway, I was outside during that earthquake, talking to some of my fellow doctors from all over the country. I actually fell to the ground during the earthquake, and during my time on the ground, I must have inhaled some spores of the fungus Coccidioides immitis, which causes what class?"

"Coccidioidomycosis," They all mumbled.

"At least we know you are going to be okay," Cameron said. "I'll go to the pharmacy and get an anti-fungal drug."

Cameron left the room, and headed for the pharmacy.

"I can't believe you solved your own case," Wilson said. "We didn't even take that into consideration."

"I wouldn't have expected you to get it anyway. You're just an oncologist after all. I am the infectious disease expert."

**THE END!**

Except…

In the end, House became much better. He found out about Cuddy letting Wilson know about their secret, and although Wilson told the ducklings he would tell them, he decided not to and kept it a secret. Instead, he told them some made-up story.

House and Cuddy became an "item," and Wilson decided to study some infectious diseases to try and win at the hospital's annual Jeopardy contest for doctors and nurses.

**I can never end stories well. This is short and sweet. Please be on the lookout for some one shots from me and I will miss this story very much. I might even write oneshots about House's conference or the Jeopardy contest. Haha!**

**I would like to thank everyone who read, reviewed, or favorited this story or me. Your kindness is greatly appreciated.**

**So, until my next story, **

**See ya!**

**Haley!**


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